Page 79 of Serpent King's Revenge

Xinyi sat in an old loveseat as if it was a throne, holding an air of authority that commanded attention. Her gaze swept the room, missing nothing. She hadn’t hesitated to slap Nathan–one of the most dangerous assassins in the nation–and he’d accepted it.

And Nathan…something in him had changed, shifted.

He was ready to take on whatever the Vipers required.

Nathan's hand was warm in mine, hanging onto me like a lifeline. Lily, Justin, and Alex completed the circle around the room, clinging to each other. Derek was seated next to Justin now, Bao moseying around the room like she was the one in charge, while Jack leaned on a bookshelf by the door. He was always doing that. Leaning.

I saw Alex smile at Nathan. It didn't reach his eyes. It was a strained, but real, connection.

Nathan wasn’t the only one who’d been changed.

I barely had time to linger on the thought when Xinyi leaned forward. "We need a new approach," she declared. "The Serpents will not hesitate to put another Kenny in power. We must think ahead."

A hush fell over us. Xinyi's next words felt like the slow pull of a knife's edge against the fabric of our reality. "They must be convinced to accept Nathan as their leader. Only then can we ensure change without further bloodshed."

Nathan's reaction was immediate and visceral. His grip on my hand tightened, almost painfully. His dark eyes were wide with shock. It rippled through his frame. I knew that look. It was a man facing his fate, weighing his choices.

I’d rarely seen Nathan afraid. I didn’t like it. But I had to wait for this to play out before I could offer anything resembling reassurance.

To see Xinyi propose this path, given their stormy past, seemed to shake him to his core.

"Xinyi," he began, his voice hoarse with disbelief, "you want me in charge?"

"Without question," she nodded. Even her son, standing behind her with his hands clasped, gave a subtle nod. "And I'll make sure everything is set for your ascension."

Nathan looked at her, his jaw set, saying nothing.

"Nathan," Xinyi pressed, her gaze unwavering as she met his wide-eyed disbelief. "I know what's going through your mind. Your father's shadow is a long one, and you fear following in his footsteps. But you are not him."

Her words echoed in the silence that hung over us. It was true; Nathan had inherited his father's brutality, his capacity for savagery. But he was also more than that. Beneath that hard exterior was a man who cherished life. He reveled in the beauty of the world around him.

I knew that more than anyone else.

"I've watched you grow up. I've seen your care for flowers, your interest in philosophy, and your love for your people. I’ve seen you with Abigail," Xinyi continued, her voice softening slightly. "You have something your father never had—compassion. You're driven by a desire to protect, not just to rule."

A sense of unease twisted through my gut. I looked at Nathan, taking in the faint creases etched into his forehead as he grappled with Xinyi's words. I was the only one who knew he’d offered to leave this all behind for me.

Now we both knew that wasn’t really an option.

"You care about your family," she said, leaning back in her chair. She then swept her gaze across Lily, Justin, and Alex.

“I do, yes…,” Nathan said, and for a second, his voice wavered. “But I’ve done terrible things.”

"Listen to me, Nathan," Xinyi said, her voice sharp. Her dark eyes held mine, their intensity sending shivers down my spine. “We’ve all done terrible things. That's part of this life."

Her gaze softened then, and she looked at each of us in turn. "But it’s about balance. We must remember why we do what we do."

The room was silent, except for the distant traffic hum. The outside world was blissfully ignorant of the grim scene within. Xinyi shifted in her seat, drumming her fingers against the polished mahogany table.

"We don't do terrible things for fun or because we're evil," she continued, her voice dropping to a whisper. It carried more weight than a shout. "We do them out of necessity. For survival. For our families."

I saw a strange mix of emotions on Nathan's face. Doubt, fear, disbelief. Then, his usual stoic expression masked them. I squeezed his hand once more, trying to silently communicate my support, my understanding.

Xinyi leaned back in her chair, observing us all like a chess master over her board of pawns and knights.

“Nathan,” she said. “You have to make a choice.”

As the eldest son of the Serpent's Head, he had always been destined for greatness or ruin. Now, it seemed, the choice would be his to make.

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